Beyond the Mist
by Alantie Mistaniu
Summary: Aerith has decided to play matchmaker for her best friend Tifa. Who is the lucky guy, and will it even work? Perhaps Cloud and Aerith aren't the only ones whose love goes beyond the grave. . .


A/N: I finally decided to try and put this idea into action. I've loved this couple for a while now, so I'm excited to get this one rolling! I truly hope you will all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Owns nothing.

Beyond the Mist

Chapter 1: Transparent

"I hate seeing her like this."

Cloud blinked, looking up from his motorbike to the young woman in pink perched on top of an old crate. "What are you talking about?"

Aerith sighed, shaking her head, causing her long braid to sway with the motion. "Oh, Cloud. You're so adorably oblivious. I'm talking about Tifa."

"Tifa?"

Sapphire sky eyes flitted across the yard to where the dark haired woman stood, hands on her hips at two drunk men she had just kicked out the door and into the dust. A faint smile tugged at his lips as the men cringed and crawled away pitifully under the brown eyed glare. Dusting off her hands, Tifa flicked her hair before striding back inside. Raising an eyebrow, the blond returned his attention to the woman beside him.

"I don't understand. Tifa's the same as always," he told her under his breath, to avoid the drunks hearing him and thinking he was speaking to himself like some loon.

"And that's the problem." Her green eyed gaze continued to stare off towards the bar as she spoke softly. "She puts on a good face for you and the children, but she isn't happy, Cloud. Did you know she cries sometimes at night, when she thinks everyone else is asleep?"

The blond's head jerked up, startled. "She cries?" he repeated, and when Aerith nodded, he blanched, staring down at his greasy hands. "I didn't know. Do you know why?" he inquired nervously. "Is it something I did?"

Hesitating, Aerith spoke with reluctance. "Not something you've done consciously."

He understood immediately. "It's us then."

She nodded slightly. "That's part of it, but it's really more than that. She's lonely, Cloud."

That he understood too. If it weren't for Aerith's gentle spiritual presence with him, he too would be wallowing in self pity and loneliness. Slowly he wiped his hands on a cloth, gathering up his tools and closing the metal box with a snap.

"She deserves to be happy, as much as we do," he told her at last. "What can we do to help her?"

Biting down on her lip, she pondered for a moment. "We need to find someone for her," she declared at last, her whole demeanor lighting up.

"Like who?" Cloud inquired, bewildered by the woman's sudden enthusiasm. "I know Rude has a crush on her, but there's no way that Tifa would ever agree to a date with him. Likewise for any former Shinra employees."

"I wasn't thinking of any of them," Aerith said, waving a hand dismissively. "Though some of the Turks really aren't so bad. . .I was actually thinking of someone else. A friend of ours."

He stared at the now giddy flower girl, still drawing a blank. "Who? Reeve's married to his work, and Cid's been with Shera for the past couple years. Vincent is in love with Lucrecia. . . that leaves Barret. No offense, but I don't think that will work. They've always been friends and nothing more."

Aerith rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "There's someone you're forgetting."

For a moment, the blank fog continued to flood his mind, then something clicked and he gawked at her. "Aerith- that's insane!"

Pouting, she folded her arms across her chest. "What's insane about it?" she demanded. "It's not like he has anything incredibly pressing to do with his time."

"But. . . but- he's, well, dead. . ."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "So am I."

Wincing, Cloud tried to correct his error. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant. . . you're different than he is. You're a Cetra."

"It is a slight problem," she admitted. "But I think I can manage to make things work. Come on, what do you say, Cloud? It's a perfect match! Tifa doesn't have anyone, and neither does he!"

Cloud ran his fingers nervously through his blond spikes, gazing uncertainly at Aerith. He loved her, but sometimes her spontaneous plans made him uneasy. "Don't get me wrong, he's my friend and all, but he's. . . he's just Zack."

"I know, he has his flaws," she conceded, a slim finger tapping against her jaw. "I did date him for awhile, remember? But I don't think he's anything Tifa can't handle. Honestly, didn't you see the way she just handled those drunks?!"

His eyes flickered over to the unfortunate drunks who were still struggling pitifully to find their feet. "Well. . .yes, but she won't be able to beat Zack up if he annoys her."

Aerith grinned widely, and Cloud found his anxiety spiking to a much higher level. "Who said she has to touch him?"

-----

The last customers had left the bar for the night, and Tifa closed the front door, locking it with a relieved sigh. Gathering her long dark hair into one fist, she pulled a tie out from her pocket, quickly pulling the damp, sweaty strands into a rare ponytail.

It had been one hell of a night.

First that had been the pair of drunks she'd tossed out near sunset who had started throwing their food around and talking at the top of their lungs. Then an hour later she had found that they had run out of lemons, so she had to leave Denzel and Marlene in charge for a few minutes while she ran to get some. Of course, when she had returned, it had been to complete chaos.

Apparently some guy had made a rude remark to Marlene, and being her defender, Denzel had tried to stand up to him. Of course, a man twice his age and weight had had no difficulty brushing off the boy's attack, sending him across the room and breaking Tifa's favorite vase. Marlene had ran, half hysterical, to find Cloud, who had not been at all pleased when he had entered. Tifa had come in with her bag of lemons to find the tall blond man standing over the frightened man, sword at his throat and the rest of the customers huddled in a corner. After getting the whole story, Tifa had not objected to Cloud throwing the man out on his head and warning him never to come back. Then, firmly, she had sent Cloud to put the children to bed while she had tended to the last of the customers.

Needless to say, she was glad that things were quiet now.

Humming softly to herself, the dark haired woman returned to the dishes soaking in the sink, beginning to scrub them vigorously, trying to keep her thoughts away from the blond upstairs, no doubt already asleep. Enjoying the peace, she began to sing softly as she worked, so caught up in her task that she didn't notice the figure standing behind her until he cleared his throat.

She shrieked, whirling to stare, a hand pressed against her heart at the man watching her. "What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, trying to regain her composure. "In case you didn't notice, the bar's closed!"

"I noticed," he responded, and Tifa felt a vague flicker of familiarity at the sound of his light tone and accent. "But I didn't come to drink."

Tifa glanced towards the front door, frowning as she tried to dismiss the feeling that she knew him somehow. "How did you get in? I swear I locked it!"

"You did," he assured her. "But, well Tif, locks don't mean much to me."

"You broke in?" she demanded, her voice rising and laced with anger. "What are you, some kind of robber? Well, get something straight, buster, you picked the wrong barmaid to rob!"

Looking alarmed, the man held up his hands, his bright violet-blue eyes wide. "Woah, calm down Tif! I'm not here to-"

Her brown eyes swelled with horror, her fists rising into an attack position, her body shifting into a crouch. "You know my _name?_" she shrilled. "Stalker!!"

"NO!" he exclaimed in panic, groaning. "I TOLD Aerith this was a bad idea!" he sighed, running his hand distractedly through his black hair.

Her anger melted into puzzlement, though she did not relax her pose. "You knew Aerith?" she inquired skeptically.

The man nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I do," he told her eagerly, seeming relieved that she was no longer yelling. "Still know her, in fact."

A twinge of sadness ripped at Tifa's heart, but she managed to keep her voice hard. "Aerith has been dead for these past three years."

His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. "Considering I'm in a similar state, it's not that big a problem. C'mon, Tifa. Don't you recognize me? I met you with Sephiroth when you guided us up to the mako reactor in that cute little cow girl outfit."

Instantly, everything clicked into place and her hands dropped with a gasp. "No- no- you can't be," she stammered, stepping back and bracing herself against the bar counter.

"Oh yes I can." He grinned, a smile that had probably made thousands of other girls go weak at the knees. "Zack Fair, Soldier, first class."

"No!" she cried, shaking her head frantically from side to side. "You- you're-"

"Dead?" he filled in dryly. "I already told you I was."

"I don't believe it," Tifa spat angrily, recovering enough to bring her fists back up. "You're some stalker. Now get the hell out of here before I make you!"

Zack winced, sighing. "I really wouldn't try it, Tif," he warned her. "You'll only get yourself hurt."

She snorted, gathering all her strength before launching herself forward, pulling her arm back for a punch aimed directly at his pretty-boy face. As if in slow motion, her fist passed through him, and the rest of her did too, causing her to loose her balance and fall sprawling on the floor. Gasping, Tifa scrambled upward, whirling to stare wide-eyed at the dark haired man.

He was looking at her apologetically. "I tried to warn you."

"You- you-"

It was all she managed to articulate before everything became too much for her tired mind to handle. Her knees trembled, vision swimming into darkness as she fainted.


End file.
